


One Good Day

by twokisses



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Angst, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Melancholy, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-02
Updated: 2019-11-02
Packaged: 2021-01-21 15:47:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 870
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21284009
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twokisses/pseuds/twokisses
Summary: "What's different about today? (An anniversary? Baz would remember.) Because Simon seems... awake. Alive. At least, a little bit more so than he usually does. He's sitting against the couch instead of lying near-dead on top of it. And he's smiling.Maybe just a good day, then. It's not like they don't exist. But... they're so few and far between. Baz hasn't seen one in so long, he must have just forgotten what it felt like."
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 10
Kudos: 114





	One Good Day

The TV is murmuring quietly in the living room when Baz lets himself into the flat. Simon is sitting on the floor between it and the sofa, as if he's forgotten how to use a chair properly - elbows propped on his knees, hands dangling between them. He looks up when Baz enters, and Baz is shocked (and immeasurably relieved) when Simon smiles at the sight of him.

"Hey," Baz says, closing the door behind him. The keys in his hand jingle cheerfully as he does.

"Hey," Simon says. He's still smiling, even if just slightly. Baz has to try hard not to stare, and then even harder to act like this is all normal - toeing off his shoes and shrugging off his bag, smiling back at Simon - like this is what happens every day. It's not.

A normal day is opening the door to a blank stare, if Baz is lucky. Usually it's a glance, there and gone, as if Baz's eyes are hot coals Simon can't hold for too long.

What's different about today? (An anniversary? Baz would remember.) Because Simon seems... awake. Alive. At least, a little bit more so than he usually does. He's sitting against the couch instead of lying near-dead on top of it. And he's smiling.

Maybe just a good day, then. It's not like they don't exist. But... they're so few and far between. Baz hasn't seen one in so long, he must have just forgotten what it felt like.

"What are you watching?" he asks. He makes his way over to Simon, sparing a glance away from him to look at the screen. There's a lot of cooking and shouting going on. More shouting than cooking, though, so probably something with Gordon Ramsay in it.

"Masterchef," Simon answers. Bingo.

Simon is looking up at Baz now, because Baz has reached him. And Baz doesn't know what to do, what he's allowed to do. How good is this good day? 

Thankfully, Simon leads him.

He extends a hand out to Baz. "Come here," he says.

Baz is all too happy to take his hand, but Simon doesn't pull him down to sit next to him. Instead, he tugs Baz's hand around towards the couch, and Baz understands with a tiny flutter in his stomach. He moves to Simon's side and then swings a leg around the back of his shoulders. When he sits, Simon is framed between his legs. Baz's heart is still pounding as he places his hand on Simon's shoulder, the other still wrapped up in his warm grip.

Today is more than a good day.

"Where's Penny?" Baz asks, because even she would have a start if she saw this scene. Simon tilts his head back slightly to look up at Baz through his eyelashes. Baz wants to kiss him so badly, but is still too cautious. He settles for very slowly moving his hand up Simon's shoulder, then sliding it into his hair. 

He used to do this, back when the awful events in the White Chapel were a few days or weeks old, when the wounds were so fresh they were bleeding continuously. He sat and lay with Simon for hours, one hand holding his and the other combing through his hair. It always put Simon at ease - or as close to it as he could get, given his state. 

Now, Simon closes his eyes. His expression is so reminiscent of those days they spent together, so many months ago, that Baz's heart aches.

"She just went down to the shop to get some things," Simon murmurs. "She'll be back in a bit."

Baz wishes she wouldn't. Not now, that they've established this comfortable contact. He doesn't need the buffer that Penny normally offers. Now, he wants Simon for himself. But that's unrealistic.

Baz hums in acknowledgement. Simon moves his head back up, and Baz's hand slips obligingly out of his hair, down his neck.

A few seconds later, though, Simon says, "You can keep..."

And Baz blinks at the back of his head, uncomprehending (or maybe just not letting himself believe it). Then he jerks back into motion, like a car that's kicked and sputtered to life. He moves his fingers back up and through the slightly overgrown curls at the top of Simon's head. In the warm overhead light, its bronze colour is hushed into a more muted brown. Still beautiful, Baz thinks.

Time slows after that. The motion of Baz's hand through Simon's hair is steady as a metronome, and Simon's shoulders gradually relax, pressing comfortingly into the sides of Baz's knees. They don't speak - Baz doesn't ask, and Simon doesn't explain. They don't address the sparkling tenderness of what they're doing, nor the strangeness of its existence amidst the sadness of the days surrounding it. They're just together. In the undemanding silence, Baz can almost pretend that nothing bad ever happened, and they're just the way they were before everything. He wishes he could freeze time, for a little while. He wonders if there's a spell for it.

Then a key clicks in the front door's lock, and the moment is gone.

Baz folds it up and tucks it neatly away in his heart.

**Author's Note:**

> if you enjoyed this lil fic and would like to read more of my snowbaz content, you can find it over on my tumblr, @sbazzing! kudos/comments/follows are hugely appreciated. thanks a lot for reading! x


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